


Easier By Three

by mogwai_do



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Domestic, Introspection, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogwai_do/pseuds/mogwai_do





	Easier By Three

You're making dinner, taking pleasure in preparing meat and grains and vegetables with your own hands - a task older than I am. I'm lounging on the couch in front of the fire, a book in one hand and a cup of tea steaming silently on the table beside me. Outside, the evening is drawing in, an unseasonably damp summer evening that promises more rain before the sun rises again. The scene is almost painfully domestic, a glimpse of the sort of life our kind rarely achieve. But the book cannot hold my attention and instead I watch you.

I'm sure you're aware of my scrutiny, but I have no idea what you make of it, only that you say nothing of it. Maybe you attribute my attention to the way the light gilds your hair, finally growing out to its proper length; or maybe to the ripple of smooth muscle in your arms as you chop vegetables; maybe even to the way your expression shifts as you work, your focus as intense as when you fight or make love - because that's what you do, rarely does the noble Highlander just fuck. Maybe you even blame my watchfulness on that nebulous, unquantifiable thing called love. Whatever reason you decide on though, I doubt you would guess correctly. I watch you now for all those reasons and none of them. Maybe when you're as old as I am or if it were possible for you to have the history I've had, since age is really only a small part of it, then you would know and understand how, here in this picture of easy comfort, I can be so afraid, or that I would welcome it so readily.

I would never belittle your losses - for one so young they have been cruel indeed and far too frequent. But you have yet to reach the point where the fear of inevitable loss is actually a welcome thing. It's the fear that tells you that, rare as it is, you've finally found something worth keeping. It's the fear that heralds the rediscovery of the feelings you can't control - the ones that tell you you're alive with every breath, every whispered endearment, every passionate shouting match. You called me a coward once, but it is only because of you, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, that I feel fear again. Only because of you that I know I'm still alive after so many hundreds of years.

You look up and our eyes meet and I realise belatedly that you have long since finished your preparations and even the used dishes are sparkling clean. You smile at having caught me out and I return it easily enough. I watch you pick up a glass of wine and I make a space for you beside me on the couch. You settle on the cushions with another smile and slide an arm around my shoulders affectionately - a casually possessive touch that I would allow from no other. You say nothing, but gaze into the fire, lost in thoughts of your own. You've had your losses too and you feel the fear of more as keenly as I do. You live with it, but haven't yet learned to embrace it and as you settle closer to me, I see its shadow in the darkness of your eyes. You will fight it to the bitter end, ward it off with loving touches and whispered endearments, never realising that all you do is bank the fires for the day it will eventually consume you. Only then, if you survive to make it out the other side, will you understand why I watch you - what this look in my eyes really means. I pick up my book again, feeling the heat of the fire on my face and the softer warmth of your body next to mine. It's a perfect, quiet evening chez MacLeod; a comfortable couch, a roaring fire, just my old friend fear and you and me.

 

FIN


End file.
